


The benefits of inclement weather

by Lost_gallifrey



Series: Friends with benefits [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Interspecies Awkwardness, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, kinky aliens, reach and flexibility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_gallifrey/pseuds/Lost_gallifrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>After a mission goes awry, Garrus and Wrex are forced into close quarters to survive. Wrex thinks he's taking advantage of the situation......but who's taking advantage of who?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The benefits of inclement weather

As usual the mako was on fire.

Wrex stared resentfully at the cheerful blaze, craggy face set into a permanent scowl of displeasure. This entire mission had gone to hell.

It was supposed to be easy. Then the armature had arrived, and easy had turned into.....a disaster. Shepard was at another base halfway around this obnoxious, frigid excuse for a planet......and Wrex was stuck here with a charred mako, a dismembered armature (mostly under the charred mako), and a teammate who couldn't stand up.

For about the fourth time Vakarian made it to his feet, managed about three reeling steps, and collapsed in a tangled heap. Somehow it still managed to be funny. Wrex watched the turian flounder helplessly in the snow, and a belly laugh finally worked its way out his mouth in a bark of amusement.

Managing to turn over, Garrus made a noise that sounded like a cross between an overheating welding torch and a drowning pyjak. The overload charge had clearly fried the turian's translation software as well as the questionable grey matter in that self-righteous skull of his. 

Wrex was content to lounge by the heat of the smoldering mako, watch Garrus attempt 'standing: part five', and wait for the Normandy to pick them up. Then the geth arrived.

One of the reasons Wrex had lived as long as he had, was that he knew that staying to fight impossible odds was a foolish choice if retreat was an option. Vakarian clearly lacked this crucial concept of self preservation, and was attempting to point his sniper rifle at the approaching geth ship.... determined to make some typically turian last stand. Unfortunately his muscular control was still fried, and the bravery of the gesture was lost when he managed to discharge a round that missed everything except a hillock of snow three yards in front of him.

“Get up, we're leaving!” Wrex prodded at the turian with his boot. Honestly he wished he could leave him there, every instinct he possessed told him to turn around and make a run for it.....he could easily make it to that abandoned pre-fab base on his own. Then he imagined what Shepard would say when he had to explain why his pet turian hadn't made it off planet. The thought of the human's .....disappointment was enough to even make the krogan biotic quail. 

Vakarian made some grating kind of noise and gestured at the geth dropship....well, attempted to gesture. Really it was more of a flail that looked less like a gesture, and more like a seizure.

“I'd rather leave you here too,” Wrex hauled the dazed turian up by the cowl of his hardsuit. “But I'm not explaining that to Shepard. Move.”

To Vakarian's credit, Wrex figured he was actually trying to move as best he could. Unfortunately he still wasn't capable of much beyond getting his feet tangled, and occasionally trying to communicate in a voice that sounded like someone rooting through scrap metal. Eventually Wrex pulled the turian's arm across his hump, and looped an arm around his waist and half carried him the rest of the way.

The little pre-fabricated pirate's den was pitch black and icy cold. The door ground shut with an icy screech, and Wrex dumped Garrus unceremoniously on the snow dusted floor. It wasn't much warmer than it was outside, but at the very least they were out of the driving wind.

Wrex looked around long enough to realize that any power module or generator had clearly been taken by the previous tenants.....and with them went any hope of immediate light or heat. By the time he got back, Garrus was shivering and trying (with reasonable success) to scoop accumulated snow out of the bowl-like cowl of his armor.

By the lack of explosions and gunfire, Wrex assumed that the geth had kept themselves occupied with the wreckage of the mako. Hopefully they were just stupid enough to poke through that mess until the wind totally obscured their tracks in the snow.

On his own, Wrex would most likely have just sat in the dark and waited out the storm. The icy cold barely penetrated his hide, after all, krogan had a superior circulatory system that had no problems dealing with the inconveniences of inclement weather. The problem was that Vakarian was shivering miserably, and that stupid tracking visor of his was blank except for a blinking error message in one corner. Wrex could only assume that meant all the thermostatic systems in the turian's armor were shorted as well. Better and better.

A cupboard yielded two damaged undersuits, a small stack of manuals, and several discolored pairs of batarian underpants; Wrex piled the unimpressive assortment in the middle of the room and set them on fire. The blaze lasted all of ten minutes before it started to die.

Having hauled himself as close to the flames as possible, Garrus made a mournful noise as he watched he batarian underwear dissolve into ash. Probably the first time anyone had regretted anything batarian related going away. 

Having got them there, then handled batarian undergarments to give them fire, Wrex considered he was well within his rights to let the whelp die of hypothermia. Turians were a weak species, he was sure Shepard would understand.....probably. 

The only alternative made Wrex's stomachs turn over. It was like something from a terrible porn vid....a terrible porn vid made for females. Shuddering, Wrex tried to imagine if the krogan females on tuchanka ever heard about it.

Clearing his throat the massive krogan leaned over to look Garrus in the face, the turian looked back at him in confusion, meltwater dripping off his fringe. “You will never talk about this.”

Vakarian made a multi-tonal noise that sounded to Wrex like three different people asking a question at the same time. “You.” Wrex jabbed the baffled turian in the chest with an armored finger, “will keep your mouth shut.” To emphasize, the krogan grabbed Garrus by the chin and helpfully closed his mouth for him.

Swatting Wrex's hand away, the turian's confusion turned to horror as Wrex started unbuckling his armor. Waving his skinny turian arms in frantic denial, Vakarian tried desperately to hand pieces of armor back to the krogan, his flanged voice taking on a metallic tone of begging entreaty. When Wrex's codpiece hit the floor with a clang, the turian finally gave up and clapped his hands over his face.

Wrex stared down at his endowment with pride. He could sympathize with Vakarian's reaction, the other species' were notoriously lacking in comparison to a krogan quad.

 

The turian kept his hands firmly over his face right up until Wrex marched over and yarded the back plate of his hardsuit off. Then he made that 'overheated welding torch' noise again and started flailing around, spitting out words that Wrex could only assume were rude. Tired of the whelp squalling and carrying on like some blushing asari maiden, Wrex grabbed one of Vakarains arms, yanked his glove off and stuck the frigid appendage into the warmth of his armpit.

Vakarain made a high pitched noise, and stared at his arm in horror, as if he was resigning himself to having to amputate. It didn't take long for the krogan's body heat to warm the hand up though, and Garrus' expression slowly went from one of splay-mandibled horror, to dawning understanding.

It was clear that Vakarian was about as pleased with the situation as Wrex, but he managed to get the rest of his armor off. And that was how Wrex found himself sitting bare-assed on the floor of an abandoned base, with a very naked, very cold, very wet, very male turian on his lap.

It was a bit like hugging a wet stick, Wrex decided. Vakarian kept his eyes forward, and his back where it was pressed against the krogan's chest, was rigid. From what Wrex could see of Vakarians ugly, bony face, it was frozen in an expression of gravely horrified acceptance. He looked like someone about to be put in front of a firing squad.

Somehow the situation was so ludicrous that Wrex couldn't help but laugh, it just boiled out his mouth in a helpless, belly shaking guffaw. Garrus tried to twist around to see what Wrex was laughing at, and the krogan immediately shut his expansive mouth with a snap. The big krogan's body had turned traitor. Cheerfully ignoring the awkwardness of the situation, it was responding in a way that would have been acceptable if the wet, squirming body in his lap wasn't a turian. Wasn't Garrus fucking Vakarian. 

Thankfully the turian didn't seem to notice, and instead vented a barrage of dialogue that started out as a low grumble and ended in a high clicking trill that vibrated through his entire body. Wrex grittted his teeth, that vibration really wasn't helping. At all.

Wrex clamped a hand over Vakarian's mouth. “Stop. Talking.” Desperately the huge krogan tried to stop the inevitable, tried to think of every disgusting thing he could. Salarians, naked salarians, Wrex thought frantically. Batarian burlesque, elcor striptease, that 'two dalatrass, one beaker' vid Joker had dared him to watch.

Vakarian was trying to pry Wrex's hand off his mouth, when the krogan's emergent problem made itself felt. The turian froze with almost comic horror, and Wrex decided that he was going to have to kill his teammate. 

Breaking his neck would probably be easiest, Wrex decided as Garrus veeeeery slowly rotated his head to look at the krogan. Turians were reasonably strong, but a good grip on their fringe and another under the chin....it would be over before the whelp knew what was going on. Wrex could tell Shepard the turian had...slipped on some ice. Very tragic.

For some reason Vakarian hadn't moved much. All he had done was twist around so those pale, beady eyes were fixed on Wrex's craggy face; he made an insistent metallic chirp/growl....as if somehow the krogan could understand that gibberish. 

“What?” Wrex grumbled sullenly, if the turian laughed he was just going to kill him now and be done with it.  
By now Wrex figured Vakarian would have fled to the far reaches of the base, probably laughing as he went. But the turian just looked him right in the eye and made that weird noise again, and then very deliberately pressed himself back harder against the krogan.

Wrex was aware his jaw was hanging open....there was no way, it must have been accidental. Then Vakarian arched his back and rubbed back against the krogan's erection in a way that was definitely not accidental.

“What are you doing, Garrus?” Wrex grunted at the admittedly delicious sensation. Turians might be ugly, presumptuous and arrogant....but friction was friction, and it had been far to long since he'd had a willing body. Against his better judgment, Wrex allowed himself to use one protuberant hip to pull the turian closer, settling the other across Vakarian's throat....just in case the whelp decided this was some kind of 'hilarious' turian prank.

Wrex tried to close his eyes and pretend Vakarian was just a really, really scrawny krogan. Unfortunately the suede skin and smooth plating made the illusion difficult to maintain, so did the way the turian's untranslated voice settled into his bones and made his quad ache. 

“Stop...talking. Or ...whatever you're doing.” Wrex tightened his hand on Garrus' throat, he wasn't going to last if that damned multi-tonal vibrating didn't stop, and who knew when his next chance to get off would be. He wanted to enjoy this. 

To Wrex's continued surprise Vakarian arched against his hold with a trill of what sounded like encouragement, apparently he was getting off on it as much as Wrex was. Kinky little bastard. 

Figuring that, as little as he wanted to, it was only fair to reciprocate in some way (even if only to stop Vakarian from leaving before that ache in his quad was assuaged) and Wrex groped between the turian's weirdly jointed legs. There was nothing there. 

Wrex was just going to give up when Garrus grabbed his hand and brought it back down, pressing his thick fingers into an almost unnoticeable slit in the smooth plating. It gave under pressure, and Wrex could feel a slick warmth beneath. It didn't feel....wait, was Vakarian female?

No...apparently not. A more familiar shape was emerging from the parted plates in a way that Wrex honestly thought was nauseating. At least the weight of it was familiar, even if it was weirdly slick in his fist.(and much smaller than himself, Wrex noted with smug pride) No balls that Wrex could feel, but given the turian species, he thought that made a lot of sense.

The turian bucked and hissed as Wrex stripped him with a rough palm. It must have been almost painful given how hard he was digging talons into Wrex's thighs.

In any other situation, Wrex would have just preferred to put the turian on his knees and give him a pounding his entire race would feel. But a small part of his brain that wasn't centered on his cock recognized that there wasn't enough medigel in the galaxy that would hide that from Shepard. Besides, he figured the spectre wouldn't have as much use for a sniper that couldn't walk. Instead he made do by repositioning himself so that his heavy cock curved up between Vakarian's thighs, taking advantage of the warm slick of the turian's sex.

 

Each slow grind of friction made nerves explode in Wrex's brain. His engorged quad pressed against the back of Vakarian's thighs, with each thrust. The turian's hands seemed to be everywhere, talons scraping against the sensitive skin of Wrex's cock, reaching back to scrape against the krogan's crest in a way that clearly didn't translate across species'. 

With a broad, heavy hand, Wrex wrapped his grip around himself, using his thumb to keep Garrus' slick cock trapped against his as he stroked them together. The sensations were clearly almost too much for the turian, and he bucked his head back, nearly putting Wrex's eye out with his fringe in the process. 

Vakarian's flanged voice was hitting the higher tonal registers, and had long since stopped making any noises that sounded like words. It was a fairly universal sound, and Wrex wasn't surprised when he felt the Turian's cock pulse in his hand, slicking his grip with hot ejaculate. Wrex was sure he should have found the whole situation revolting, any sane krogan would.....but as his hand wrung another bucking, snarling orgasm out of the turian, Wrex could feel his quad tightening.

Wrex came with a roar, his joints locking up with a pleasure that bordered on pain. His cum spattered his hand, painting a viscous, iridescent trail across Vakarian's thin stomach. Gasping as he milked the last nerve stimulation from the experience, Wrex was uncomfortably aware of Garrus clawed hand alongside his own.

Never one for as humans called it 'pillow talk', Wrex lumbered to his feet, dumping Garrus rather unceremoniously on the floor. The turian manged to get to his feet, although Wrex noted smugly that his knees seemed a bit shaky. 

Retrieving a scattered piece of armor, Wrex watched Vakarian trail a clawed finger through the still wet cum on his stomach. Looking the krogan right in the eye, Garrus deliberately curled out a long blueish tongue to taste the liquid on his talon. Wrex was still thinking hard about naked salarians when the roar of the Normandy's engines boomed overhead.

The storm had passed, and Shepard bounded out into the new snow with the enthusiasm of a pyjack. “What did you clowns do to my mako?” he boomed when Wrex and Garrus were close enough to hear.

“Saved the galaxy from the threat of your driving,” Garrus quipped in accented, but perfectly understandable galactic common, looking over his shoulder to flare his mandibles at Wrex in an obvious smirk.

“Haha!” Shepard's bearded face split into grin, showcasing his human cow-teeth. “What did you two do to keep occupied?”

Wrex tried to catch Vakarian's eye, but the turian was clearly ignoring him. If he spoke, Wrex was going to kill him. Shotgun round right through that smug, pointy face. Possibly a mine where he definitely didn't want a mine.

Garrus shrugged, hefting his sniper rifle for Shepard's approval. “Nothing much, just kept warm and played with our guns.”

Vakarian was going to die.

“Good man,” Shepard obliviously gave the turian a shoulder slap of approval. “Keeping ready for the mission, I like it!”

Wrex watched stonily as the human and the turian wandered up the ramp to the hangar bay. It might take some time, but vengeance would be his.

“C'mon, hurry up Wrex!” Shepard tapped his fingers on the door controls as Wrex stumped irritably through the snow.

“Yeah, Wrex,” Garrus grinned down at the krogan with shark teeth, his accented, multi-toned voice laden with smug innuendo. “Aren't you coming?”


End file.
